By the Book
by myboygeorge
Summary: After Sam's relapse with demon blood after Famine rolled into town, his confidence is shaken up...until a case has him cross paths with a beautiful small-town librarian who helps revive his spirit. Sam/OC, set late s5 after My Bloody Valentine; rating for language and future romantic encounters. First Supernatural fic, please be kind!
1. Prologue

'Ride the pines on this one, junior junkie.'

Sam groused out his mocking of Bobby, ending in a yawn that cracked his jaw wide as he idly flipped through the channels. He didn't like it one friggin' bit when Dean made him stay back because of his problems with The Juice. He'd detoxed, he'd been clean ever since that run-in with the stupid cupid, and yet Big Brother and Bad-Ass Bobby were insisting this one he sit out.

'You two yahoos ain't gonna screw up this one, so I'm only taking the one yahoo,' Bobby had explained after reading the omens as a sign of demons trying to stir shit up somewhere in small town northern California. Sam had protested, loudly with many obscenities hurled at his surrogate father only to be met with the usual sombre Singer stare and a stonewall of 'nah, ain't gonna happen Sammy so shut yer yap 'n get to researching whatever you can find on these...things.'

Only problem there was that thanks to this particular part of California being as far away from Silicon Valley as was possible there were no motels in their budget range with wifi. How exactly was he supposed to get to researching without any information superhighway when a town supposedly crawling with demons?

The phone on the sturdy table between the twin beds jangled, knocking Sam's boredom to the side.

'Yeah, hi,' he rasped, voice rusty with ennui and disuse.

'It's Dean. Hope I didn't interrupt anything? Maybe a late night trip to the pay-by-use channels?'

'Mature, Dean. What have you guys found?'

'It's not demons, it's somethign else we're not sure what.'

'Tell me about the victims.' Sam looked around for a pen and a pad of paper, knocked over a bottle of Dean's fruit punch Gatorade in the process which set him to swearing. 'Jesus, fuck, oh this shit is everywhere now!'

'That's kinda what happens when you forget the tissues, hermano,' Dean quipped, knowing it would make Sam seethe.

'It's your damn sports drink, jerk. Tell me about the victims.'

'Okay, well definitely not demons but something's going down around here. The first victims were sisters, both looking like they'd spent about two weeks in a Scandinavian hot box and yet their friends and family say they were getting ready to leave for New Zealand tomorrow for a modeling gig because they'd won some under-twenty-five beauty contest thing.'

'Was some before and after thing?'

'It was a photo-shoot for CoCo Beach swimwear.'

'Wow, bikini models dead before they hit their prime, maybe I should be offering you some tissues Dean.'

'The other three are all in the morgue we're heading there now but the upshot is that the coroner says the bodies are stiff as hell, like were dipped in liquid nitro without the liquid nitro side effects like freezing solid and shattering to the touch. Got anything?'

'Uh no, because you put me on house arrest in this hell-hole from the dark ages with no internet.'

There was a scuffling noise and then Sam was rolling his eyes as Bobby's voice came through the connection.

'It's called a library, idiot, you know, places with paper copies of real books? Not to mention really old books that might have something we can use? Get off that goofball ass o' yers and lumber on down!'

'Right and where is the lib-'

'Main and Fourth, nice little corner building across from the gas station and a bar, the Acropolis. Yeh drove past it to get to the motel. Idiot,' Bobby added once more for good measure.

Sam nodded, the after hanging up sighed deeply. He may have found some square footage with Dean once more but Bobby still wanted his head on a pike; sometimes Sam wasn't always sure that was a simple metaphor.

Well at least if he struck out he'd be able to drown his sorrows.


	2. Chapter 1: The Librarian

The Acropolis was hard to miss, with its gaudy white and blue paint job along with its columns plastered with posters for out of date rock concerts and missing pets that had long since been found. The building right across the street, however, was exactly what a small-town library should look like to Sam's way of thinking. Simple grey stone building, three stories like the others on the block with a short set of stairs divided by a weathered brass rail. On the wooden doors with large panes of plate glass were faded neon paper advertisements for book swaps, author readings and after school activity clubs. Sam checked his watch - just about nine pm - and wondered if a small town like this kept its library open late; his question was answered when he gave the door a testing pull and the sounds of murmuring voices came through the crack crystal clear.

He walked in, inhaling the ages-old scents of dried paper and ink and too many humans in one spot; the lobby was dark save for the single desk lamp where a matronly woman nibbled green grapes as she read a brick-thick Danielle Steele.

'If you're here for Ree, stud, she's not done with the kids yet.'

Sam looked around, then poked himself in the chest. 'Y-you mean me?'

'No, the other six and a half feet of yummy that girl could use a hot night with.' The woman gestured vaguely to the doorway with the words 'A World of Pure Imagination' in friendly green painted on the wall above. 'Wizard Wednesday Nights is almost done, if you're lucky the pastries won't be gone just yet.'

'Thanks.'

Still confused but assuming the receptionist meant the head librarian - he hoped - Sam passed through the doorway, then couldn't help but grin. The word library seemed far too simple a word for this emporium of literature. The room was an open concept, with cushy sofas and armchairs so thick and plush a small child might vanish and re-emerge fifteen years later. The walls were lined seven or eight rows tall with polished oak shelves and crammed into every last square inch were books. Pictures books, mystery series, tomes and trash alike, all avaialble either by ladder for the top rows, or a quick flex of the knees at the bottom. Sam scanned the titles, laughing a little when he recognized books he'd seen in his own school library and read - _The Cricket in Times Square, The Mouse and the Motorcycle, Soup and Me,_ even the truly crap-tastic _Phoenix and the Carpet._

But the books were forgot in a heartbeat when Sam heard the musically low female voice reading a chapter book aloud that was interspersed with young gasps and giggles. He turned and felt a smile light up his face - the woman was beautiful, rosy cheeked and button nosed with intelligent blue eyes and a short pixie crop of aged bronze hair. Her body was a lush and curvy dream tastefully showcased in a rich blue tunic and designer jeans and when she smiled it seemed to brighten the whole room, her eyes sparkling like sunlight on the Pacific Ocean.

Sam didn't realized he'd moved closer until he felt his boot connect with something soft; looking down he saw it was a giant stuffed-toy fish standing guard at the edge of the reading buddies carpet area. Now that he was there, he could see other parents and caregivers - men and women alike - positively enraptured by her voice as she was detailing the exploits of Harry Potter in his second year at Hogwarts. When she ended on the dramatic final words of chapter seven, there were groans of frustration, and the woman playfully wagged her finger at her audience.

'You know you have to wait until next week to hear what happens.'

'It's been in print for over a decade, and the film's been out for nearly eight years,' one of the dads near Sam muttered, 'and Ree has them eating from the palm of her hand like it's brand new.'

'She is excellent with kids, and people too, no amount of practice can teach that,' the man to his right replied in the same undertone. 'Plus she really loves her books and who can fault that in this day and age when everyone just relies on the internet?'

Sam felt his insides shift greasily, then looked back once more at the woman he now knew to be Ree and smiled again, the guilt slithering away as quickly as it had arrived.

'Thank you everyone for coming and thank you too for the parents bringing in donations to the food bank. I know many people will be thankful for your kindness.' Ree beamed out at the smiling crowd, then froze just a moment on Sam and for an instant it felt like when Cass did his angel-zapping mojo on him. She gave him the briefest of nods and Sam felt his blood pump a little harder, like she was some type of rock star and he her adoring fan.

Or worse, her groupie.


	3. Chapter 2: The Intrigue

Despite the sizzling moment Sam knew they'd shared, Ree didn't so much as glance at him until the last of the family-friendly crowd headed out along with the receptionist; only when Ree locked up behind her did she turn to face Sam who'd been politely waiting.

'Sorry about that, I didn't realize when your friend Bobby called and said you'd stop in he meant tonight.'

'How-'

'He said you'd be about seven feet tall with girly hair and a leather jacket. I'm Ree.' She strode over, held out her hand which, Sam noticed as he shook it, had fingernails painted in iridescent polish. The glittering lacquer made him think of home movies he'd once watched with Dean of their mom, of Mary opening a cereal box on her birthday to find the prize inside was an opal pendant necklace. It had been the first time he'd ever seen Dean happy at a memory of their mother which had made him happy in turn.

'Sam, uh, Winchester.'

'So what can I do for you Sam Winchester?'

'I'm looking for some information, we're um...' Sam frowned in thought, which made Ree laugh as they headed for the elevator to the top floor.

'Save the weak-ass-yet-plausible cover story, Sam. I know what you guys are in town for, and it's not just the honey-brew at the Acropolis. Though it is pretty amazing.'

At Sam's head-tilting stare, Ree let out a laugh once again that sounded like a symphony in Sam's ears. 'I've known for a very long time about demons and vessels, the whole shebang.'

'How?'

'Let's just say I've got some connections in the know when it comes to hunters.'

'Fair enough.' Sam knew from deep past experience that meant a whole chasm of secrets were being held hostage, but that the task at hand needed his attention more. 'So we're looking for some type of vengeful spirit, not a demon, who killed Stephanie and Erin Georges and left them looking like raisinettes. The other three victims are all stiff as statues, but no signs of any freezing agent nor any record of muscular conditions in the medical charts, and this is beyond the usual rigor mortis.'

'Mmm.' Ree nodded with pursed lips, then stepped off the elevator as the doors opened on the top floor. She looked left and right, chose left. 'This way. You ever read Homer's epic poetry?'

'Uh, not really. You think it might help with my shriveled-popsicle death problem?'

'It kills me how much that word gets overused now thanks to social media.' She rolled her eyes in philosophical irritation. 'A film is epic, a red carpet dress is epic, a cheeseburger is epic.'

'My brother Dean might have a comment about that last one,' Sam reassured her, then slowed his roll when Ree opened the double doors. Where the downstairs had been like a Cave of Wonders, this was like Bob's Book Warehouse - while still stacked lovingly and neatly on wooden shelves, these books were not children's fiction but ancient tomes, reference books, scientific religious and historical texts. Row after row, book after book all catalogued with loving precision as a mother might document her baby's first year.

'How did you acquire all these?'

'Books are a great humanizer. All of us read to be moved, transported, become better people. What better way travel than to come here and escape to Mars with John Carter or across the universe with Arthur Dent? Maybe even beyond with Pierre Boulle.' Ree traced her fingertips over the shelf-ends, eyes scanning the numbers of each row. 'Travel through time with Orwell or Dante or Verne, be romanced with Shakespeare and Austen, laugh with Voltaire. Perhaps learn the workings of the universe with Newton and Tesla and Galileo. Ah, here we are.'

Ree made a sharp left turn down an aisle, still running delicate fingers over the volumes; as he followed her Sam caught a heavenly fragrance lifting from her skin. It was a combination of things he liked best, like peanut butter cookies and pineapple and the smell of the forest after the rain. Wonderful and earthy, he thought, making his blood stir like he hadn't felt in ages not since...Ruby. The memory of her, what she'd done to him made the shiny shimmering glow inside go harshly neon, and Sam was suddenly aware of how alone he was with this woman in a room very easy to get lost in. He fingered the vial of salt in his jacket pocket, wishing he'd brought his knife instead.

Ree stopped suddenly and turned right, crouching low and pulling out a rather thin looking book that, in Sam's opinion, should have been downstairs with the squishy chairs in the children's room. It was barely a hundred pages long, the cover clean yet worn, in bold simple colours of blue, yellow and bronze depicting a man in ancient garb driving a chariot towards the sun.

'Here, this should have what you are looking for, I think.'


	4. Chapter 3: The Pep Talk

'D'Aulaires' Book of Greek Myths?' Sam held it, looked at the front and back covers which elicited a light snort from Ree.

'It works better if you open, Einstein.'

'I know how books work,' he groused with just a hint of petulance. 'What I wanna know is why this one?'

'Read it, you'll figure it out,' Ree insisted, then smiled. 'You've got a good head on your shoulders, you should always remember that.'

'Remember I'm smart? I went to Stanford, I think I know I'm smart. Decisions of recent past notwithstanding,' he added on an embarrassed mutter, 'especially when it comes to my love life the last year.'

'I mean, you're practical in a very optimistic way. The Apocalypse is nigh and you're still trying to find a way to keep the body count to zero.' Ree's friendly blue eyes turned serious, like the sea about to brew a storm. 'But I saw it in your eyes. You're still hungry for something no one can take from you.'

'What's that?'

'The solution to that problem. I can see it in your eyes, I can see it's eating at your like a cancer Sam.' Ree smiled. 'But I know your type all too well. Once you have your answers, the problem can be handled. But not having the answers isn't the real issue for you, even.'

'Then what is?'

'Oh, it's not even your issue, not really. Well, kinda, yeah, it is.'

'Ree, it's getting late and my brother and me have some creatures gank so how about we skip ahead to the finish line?'

'The mistake people make when looking at you are is thinking things like your fear and anger are weaknesses. They're not.'

'Oh?'

'Uh-uh. That fear of losing your brother, of losing yourself, your anger at everything that landed you in this mess? They're assets, they keep you alive in the fight, ready to push you to keep going.' She gave a little shrug. 'How else would you have the strength to keep going down this path?'

'I suppose a lot of people would see it that way, yeah.'

'Keep reading, Sam, anything and everything you can get your hands on. You never know which book might save your life.'

'Been there,' he muttered, then gave her an appreciative smile. 'Thanks. When is it, er, due back?'

'Consider that one an indefinite loan until you figure your answers. Come on, I'll walk you out.'

Ree looped her arm through Sam's like they were taking a merry stroll in the park, back among the stacks towards the elevator. 'So what is it like, hunting demons? I've only read about it in books.'

'Listen...' Sam hesitated; the heady scent of her, that rich soulful combo of pineapple and pine needles making him want to promise her the world. 'All due respect Ree, we just met and in my line of work answers to the questions you're asking can get a man killed or worse. Jumping into things, especially with women, has bitten my ass like a hell-hound. THe last thing I wanna do is put a nice girl - woman - like you through something traumatic because of me.'

'Protective soul, I can certainly appreciate that. Does that...protective awareness apply to everything?'

The stirring Sam had felt like a shot of whiskey in his veins now turned suddenly into a firestorm of nearly uncontrollable need. He felt himself falling into the blue oceans of her eyes, not drowning but floating in a warm watery welcome. He felt himself leaning in towards her, then closed his eyes in frustration when he heard his cellphone go off.

'Just one moment,' he reassured her, then flipped his phone open. 'Yeah, it's Sam.'

'Sammy, we think we might have a lead, meet us back at the motel,' Dean ordered him.

'Uh, why don't you guys come to the library, it's right across from the bar and I hear the beer is great.'

'Nope, we are not going to your nerd porn warehouse. You here now.'

'Why is that so much less tempting when it's you barking that line at me instead of a beautiful woman whispering it in my ear?'

'Aw, isn't that cute, even geeks get horny,' Dean teased him, which only served to make Sam's eyes roll harder.

'Dean, look-'

'Let me try,' Ree offered and held out her hand for the phone which Sam obligingly plunked in her palm. 'Dean, Ree here, I've been helping your big sweet baby bro get what he needs...well, now, if you guys are there at the motel, surely you'd know that type of getting needs met would be a tad awkward with an audience...not that I mind but Sammy seems like he'd want the privacy...right, so we'll see you in a few for a pint? Yes it's the Acropolis downtown, hard to miss. Bye.'

She winked at Sam, tossed him his phone as the elevator doors opened. 'Sometimes it pays to fight fire with fire.'


	5. Chapter 4: The Friendly Drink

_Hello and thanks to everyone who is reading - just to clarify, the ending of the story is why this one has to be rated M, but we're not there yet so right now it's just for language. Hope everyone's liking it so far!_

* * *

They headed for the bar, where it seemed Ree was a regular for all she had to do was smile at the bartender and he was filling glasses before they'd even found a table.

'Here we are, two pints of Grecian honey-brew aka nectar of the gods.' Ree sat down with their drinks, tapped hers against his. 'The owner, Dio, his whole family are from Thebes and he gets it shipped over by the cask. Cheers.'

'Cheers.' Sam sipped, then drank deeply; it was a wonderful elixir that made him think of warm sunshine-filled afternoons at the beach. 'Damn that's good.'

'Told you it was the tits. Can you tell me anything else about your case?'

'I'd rather wait for them. Last time I got too friendly with a mystery woman, I kind of opened the gates of hell.'

'So that's why you've been resisting kissing me? Think I'll get you out of your pants then suck you dry like a mosquito?'

'Kind of, yeah.' Sam drank his honey-brew once more, felt calmer. 'She got me into some bad shit, the kind that doesn't go away with a cookie and a hug and a good night's sleep. Tried to defend my relationship with her to my brother and he locked me down to...get her out of my system.'

'Every good man is tested that way in his life at one time or another. Good women too. But if you're still here with your brother then you guys must have been able to work your way through it somehow.'

The sudden wistfulness in her voice awoke a desperate need in Sam to change the subject. 'So you seem like a pretty smart person, how did you end up...here?'

'After I did my PhD in library sciences, I spent time in a bunch of European museums helping them catalogue special collections, then I came back to the States to the Library of Congress in DC, then the Met in New York, National Baseball Hall of Fame, Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, then the AFI archives and finally I realized I was just tired of all the documenting of facts and figures, I wanted to just...curl up with a good story and lose myself in romance and adventure.' Ree gave a shrug, sipped her brew. 'So I found this place and I've spent the last three years getting it set up. My own little Eden of pages and pictures.'

'Forgive me but you seem pretty young to have worked so many different places.'

'I'm a special exhibitions curator. You know, I come highly recommended with a special set of skills.'

'You're like, what, the Liam Neeson of the Dewey decimal system?'

'Something like that,' Ree laughed. 'I was never in one place longer than six months at a time. Once the collection is up and running, the curators know what to do because I showed them, and I move on. But this...' Ree looked around, gave a happy sigh. 'This place I like very much. Simple, peaceful as a small town should be. No drama.'

'Come with me and Dean on a hunt, you might rethink that.'

Ree's musical laugh tinkled out, mellowed when the door opened and Dean walked in, holding the door open for Bobby in his wheelchair. A flick of the fingers towards the bartender had him filling more glasses with honeybrew which Ree went to fetch while Dean and Bobby joined Sam at the table.

'If more librarians looked like that, this country's dropout rate would be rock bottom,' Dean informed his brother, earning an eye-roll from Bobby.

'Last time Sammy here got himself a little regular, it came with a side of demon blood addiction. Sassypants like her going after a guy she knows is a hunter, that ain't ending well at all.'

'Oh come on, now, Bobby, even Sam-o here needs a happy ending once in a while just like the rest of us.' Dean slapped his brother's shoulder, then eyed the book on the table appreciatively. 'Maybe that starts with getting a dirty bedtime story. These guys loved sex and death, it's like _Penthouse_ meets _Guns and Ammo_. Perfect blend of all primal needs.'

'Ree said it would help us with our mystery deaths. What'd you find?'

'Yeah, we did a little further examination of the stiff ones at the morgue, and found this.'

Bobby pulled a small plastic baggie from his jacket's inner pocket, tossed it on the table. 'ME found flecks of white powder every hole imaginable. Every. Hole.'

'Cocaine? Heroin?'

'Marble, and it ain't local either.'

'Lab ran a few priority tests and said this stuff-' Dean pointed at the bag '-comes from southeastern Greece.'

Sam examined the bag, looked at the cover of the book, felt the connections fire like dynamite in his brain has he flipped triumphantly through the book until he found the page. 'Son of a bitch. I know what we're dealing with.'

'What?' Bobby and Dean chorused.

'A Gorgon. We're looking for a Gorgon.'


	6. Chapter 5: The Monsters

Dean stared at his brother. 'A what?'

'Not just a Gorgon, the head one. No pun intended,' Sam added after a beat.

'What's a Gorgon?'

'They were three sisters, very beautiful, until one of them was raped in the Temple of Athena by her lover, a god in his human form. As punishment, Athena turned the god's lover into a woman so repulsive anyone who beheld her face was instantly turned to stone,' Sam explained.

'Medusa.' Dean frowned, looked at Sam like he was bananas once more. 'You're talking about Medusa, running around in northern California.'

'We've got two sisters made ugly, then three people turned into rock solid rock-stars with Greek marble under their nails and in their eyes. What else could have done that?' Bobby pointed out.

'But I thought all that shit about Greek gods and monsters were just a bunch of stories.'

'We hunt demons from Christian hell, Dean,' Sam reminded him, 'and we've run into how many other pagan nutballs in our lives, but a lady so hideous she makes you play the worst game of freeze tag in the universe is out of the realm of possibility.'

'Here we are, gents.' Ree returned with drinks for Dean and Bobby, smiled winningly at Sam when she saw the opened book. 'Oh, you figured out where the on-switch is?'

'We're looking for Medusa,' he replied.

'Yes, I figured when you said they were frozen with no ice,' Ree replied neutrally, then flicked her eyes up, narrowed her eyes. 'Enjoy your drinks boys, but we may wanna relocate this party soon.'

'Why?'

'See that grey-eyed skank at the end of the bar?' Ree subtly tilted her head, and the trio of hunters caught sight of the woman in dark jeans and motorcycle boots knocking back a shot of tequila before returning to her own glass of honey-brew. 'She convinced my ex-boyfriend to break things off with me.'

'She stole your man?' Dean asked suspiciously; he'd been the man in that cat fight more than once.

'Nope, just got him to end things with me, one thing let to another and well, his numbskull buddies were responsible for my house burning down.'

'You're kidding.'

Bobby just rolled his eyes and drank. 'Idiots, it's always the quiet ones that have the scary-ass temper. Why do you think demons go after decent people? They feed on their six-feet-deep rage from the inside out.'

'Bottom line, how do we gank the Gorgon?' Dean gave the book a little tap while he drank deep his beer. 'Goddamn that's good.'

Sam scanned the pages, sighing deeply. 'We need to track her down to her temple, then cut off her head with a bronze sword.'

'Well now might be a good time to do that because Silver Shooter over there made us,' Bobby advised them. 'And she definitely got crazy bitch eyes.'

'Not all at once. Sam first,' Ree advised, 'then me then you two.'

'Just me,' Dean decided, handing Bobby the book. 'You can figure out where we'll nab us a bronze sword this time of night in Ass-End, California.'

'Check your wing flaps, Dean. Sam first,' Ree reminded them.

Following her orders, Sam casually got up, patting his pockets as he headed out the door. Outside, he felt the warm wind tease the tips of his hair and he breathed it in deeply as he heard a low gentle voice to his left- no his right- no it was all around.

 _Don't shy away from the strength of your feelings. Love her and make love with her, even for a short time, it will make you feel like yourself again Sam._

Turning in circles, he tried to find the source but he was alone on the street. 'Too long,' he said aloud, 'too long since you just had a normal one night stand like every average American boy.'

'Oh, but if we did get naked and creatively break some furniture, you know it'd be more than that.'

Sam turned around, saw Ree standing there with a knowing little smile on her face. 'This isn't chemistry, this is lust, this is...something feels dangerously close to what my last girlfriend-'

'Ruby,' Ree interrupted him, then made a face when he goggled in disbelief. 'Yeah, I know about her and wasn't impressed with the cruelty of your Christian puppet-master. Giving you a woman you have such...passion for only to have her turn you into a strung-out junkie was just a plain old-fashioned dick move. Thank the cosmos me and my family aren't like that. Though we do love our games.'

'Your family?'

Ree made another face, only where the first was a smirking sneer this one was playfully smug. 'Yeah, well there are the big twelve up on the mountaintop, and a whole bunch of us slightly less popular than those cool kids but we get our share of glory now and then.'

Sam's insides bounced like Jell-O. 'Who are you really? I know you're more than just some dirt-road bookworm.'

'Well, my partner in crime is Hermes, only his elevator only goes basement to penthouse. I get all the floors in between.'

'Hermes? Greek trickster, messenger, patron of travelers and thieves?'

'Ah, see you are smart.' Ree wagged a finger at him. 'You don't deserve it but I'll give you a hint.'

Ree turned towards the closest street lamp, held out her hand like she was expecting a high five from a ghost. Sam's mouth dried up when he saw a sudden arc of light spring out, a perfect multicoloured curve that Ree was tracing out.

'Any ideas yet?' she inquired sweetly.

'Iris.' Sam breathed it out. 'You're Iris, Greek goddess of the rainbow.'


End file.
